


over coffee

by trulyjaem (orphan_account)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Hopeful Ending, M/M, renmin bracelets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 23:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16293608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/trulyjaem
Summary: jaemin has always been one for routine.





	over coffee

**Author's Note:**

> hello, this is just something short i conjured up at the middle of the night. 
> 
> i know i should be working on that mafia au and on my renmin social media au but i just _had_ to write this one before the idea dissipates aaaa i'm sorry ;_;
> 
> please excuse the errors, plot holes, and inconsistencies!
> 
> not my best work oof but i hope you dont mind!

This is not what he had expected when he decided he wanted to grab some coffee.

Jaemin had thought that he would just go out in his signature sweatpants and baggy tee combo, hair mussed from lying in bed all day, pointedly ignoring the stack of homework waiting on his desk. He thought he would just walk the three blocks to the nearest café. Maybe walk a bit slower than usual to admire the park he always passes on the way to university. Maybe even blast a few songs and soak in the three pm sun. He thought he would just enter the quaint café which was owned by an alumnus of the university he was studying in, order his usual cup of iced Americano with two espresso shots—four if he _really_ needed the boost—and maybe get an incredulous stare from the cashier (depending on who’s manning the register that day). He thought he would maybe order a bagel or cheesecake before settling down on his usual booth—conveniently placed far enough from the rest that he could have a semblance of privacy. He thought he would then enjoy his food in tranquil silence, gaze fixing on the space in front of him where someone is supposed to be.

He was always one for routine. The familiarity that came with it was comforting. It grounded him and gave him direction when his thoughts would drift too far off. Change was welcome as well, of course—Jaemin was never known for being stagnant, anyways; he was always moving around, deciding impulsively, gesturing widely and eyes shining brightly. But as much as Jaemin was dynamic and welcomed change like an old friend, he was scared; scared of losing the familiarity, scared of floating off, scared of getting lost.

And this— _this,_ whatever this is—scares him.

It throws him off-kilter when a boy with golden blond slides into the seat in front of him. His eyes downcast as he nibbles with the bottom of his lip. The sleeves of his sweater nearly cover his hands that were cradling a cup of vanilla latte.

It’s been years but Jaemin can never forget that familiar slope of his nose, those eyelashes that fan his cheeks, those narrow shoulders. How can he when he has those features engraved in his heart?

A silence engulfs them as Jaemin stares at the boy intently, mouth growing dry by the second. The latter resolutely keeps his head down, his body rigid from the top of his head to his fingertips pressed tightly on the cup.

“Renjun?” Jaemin finds his voice, heart thumping loudly in his chest. This isn’t happening. This _can’t_ be happening. Renjun visibly flinches at the sound but slowly lifts his head up.

When their eyes meet, Jaemin feels his heart constrict. His food lays forgotten as his eyes flicker between Renjun’s. The clamor of conversation in the café is drowned out, Jaemin’s attention fixed determinedly to the boy in front of him.

“Jaemin,” Renjun breathes and, _oh_ , how sweet Jaemin’s name sounded rolling off his tongue. “It’s been so long,” His voice is still as soft as Jaemin remembers it. “How have you been?”

 _I’ve been better._ He wanted to say.

He doesn’t.

He smiles minutely in lieu of a reply.

Renjun mutters a soft ‘oh’, eyes now back on the table. Sparing themselves from the inevitable awkward silence, Jaemin smiles just a bit wider, albeit hesitant but sincere nonetheless and chuckles breathily. “In my third year of Psych. Still drowning in homework—you know, same old, same old. Been practicing a lot recently, though, so I guess that’s something.” Jaemin doesn’t know what possessed him to talk to him as if they were old friends, as if they were _just_ old friends. But Jaemin saw the way Renjun curled into himself, making him smaller than he appears, and the last thing Jaemin wanted—the last thing ever, to be completely honest—was to make him uncomfortable.

Renjun looks up again, eyes connecting with Jaemin’s and he swears he feels the air in him leave his body.

It’s been years, but Renjun looks as beautiful as he did back then, maybe even more.

Jaemin doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Renjun smiles gently, lifting his cup to his lips. “You’re still playing volleyball?” Jaemin hums as he plays with the lid of his beverage. “Yeah, it’s what got me in uni, you know.” No, Renjun doesn’t know. Renjun doesn’t know anything that’s happened in the last three years. Jaemin bites back a bitter laugh.

The older stares out the window, eyes distant. “You were the best the school had. I would know—I always saw you practicing at the gym close to midnight.” There’s a lull as Jaemin stares at Renjun, gaze trailing over features he’s memorized by heart. He’s changed, Jaemin notes. What once were soft fat made way for sharp defined edges, his cheekbones and jaw more prominent. The chocolate Jaemin loved was replaced with golden blond but he finds that he loves it as well. Any hair color fits Renjun, if Jaemin was being honest, even that loud red hair he had in junior year.

Junior year.

Huh.

Jaemin dismisses the thought even before it had the chance to materialize.

“How ‘bout you, Renjun?” He takes a sip. “How are you?” At that, the older turns to face him, leaning into his clasped hands. “I’ve been okay.” It’s silent as Jaemin watches Renjun’s gaze dart from side to side, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. He waits for him to talk. He waits for him, just like he’s always done.

“I—“ Renjun starts. “I actually moved back last year…”

 _You’ve been here all this time and you never bothered to tell me_ , Jaemin wants to say—to lash out. But he doesn’t. What stops him is the mocking laughter echoing in his head. _He’s not obligated to tell you anything, anymore, Na Jaemin._

“Really? Haven’t seen you around.” Jaemin decides then that pretending he couldn’t care less was the safest route, even if it meant having to see a flicker of hurt on the other boy’s face.

“I’ve actually been trying to reach out but Jeno never gave me the chance to ask for you.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Jisung, too.” He smiles sadly.

Jeno and Jisung have always been protective of Jaemin especially after what happened with Renjun. Jaemin appreciates them with all he has, don’t doubt that, but the fact that they both knew he was _here_ in the same country, in the same city, in the same _university_ for God’s sakes ignites an irritation in him and a betrayal almost exactly like the one he felt all those years ago.

“Did they?” He grits out, the edges of his lips taut. Renjun nods solemnly. Then, “I just—I saw you in here and I thought maybe this was my chance to, to catch up with you. It’s—it’s been a while and I know lots have changed with me going to China and you graduating high school. I just thought that maybe we could reconnect and talk again, you know—“ Renjun rambles, fingers shaking from the nerves. He’s acting like there’s nothing wrong with him being here, that _they’re_ okay; as if they ended things on a good note. As if he hadn’t ripped out Jaemin’s heart and tore it apart. As if he didn’t leave Jaemin to pick up the shards alone. As if he hadn’t left him alone.

“What are you doing here?” Jaemin sighs, tired of beating around the bush. Renjun halts.

“To study?”

“No, Renjun. Why are you _here_? Talking to me. Where’s Yukhei?” Renjun blanches.

Jaemin doesn’t stop the bitter tilt of his lips. He knows Yukhei, of course he does. He’s followed Renjun throughout the first few months since their split, since he moved back to China. He’s seen the photos, the tweets, the posts—how happy Renjun was becoming. The kind of happy that Jaemin hopes he made him at least once while they were together.

Then,

Then, Yukhei came along on the fourth month. And he was _everywhere_. On Renjun’s profile picture, on his Instagram feed, his tweets, his snaps, his arms, and consequently, Jaemin’s memory begins to fade the way Jaemin begins to lose himself to heartbreak and despair.

For a moment—a very long moment, Jaemin hits rock bottom but of course, like most things, he gets better with time. He learns the hard way that the world won’t stop for him no matter how much pain he was in and so, he picks himself up little by little. He cuts himself along the way and drops a few pieces, maybe even lose them in the cracks between his fingers but in the end— _In the end,_ he pieces himself back together—back to the cheerful, flirty, volleyball player that he was. Sure, he was missing a few pieces but to build himself from the ground up, unsure whether he’ll be able to stand alone takes immense courage and strength and Jaemin feels that that’s enough. Jaemin gets better, not his best, yes, but it’s good enough. He’s good enough.

He was always one for routine and being good enough became part of that.

“We broke up a month after,” Renjun mumbles, eyes going downcast yet again. Jaemin watches in stunned silence, words of hatred and anger dying on his tongue the moment Renjun utters those words. His eyes fixate on Renjun’s form, following his every move. The latter shifts slightly causing his sleeve to rise and the glint that comes after catches Jaemin’s eye.

Jaemin feels his heart stop.

Around Renjun’s wrist rests a bracelet of rose gold, the very one he gave him for their second anniversary. Suddenly, the silver band on his wrist seems heavier, warmer as if it was searing itself into his skin to remind him of what once was and maybe, Jaemin dares, what could be. He feels the beginning of hope flooding inside his chest, he hates it but he doesn’t stop the gradual flow.

“Y-you kept it?” The fight leaves Jaemin’s body and he sags into his seat. “All this time?”

“I never took it off,” Renjun admits quietly. He rests his hands on the table, head angled downwards to hide his face. Jaemin eyes his hands, heart beginning to thump rapidly in his chest. He feels light-headed and warm—too warm, as if he ingested all the stars. The thought of Renjun sitting of front of him, breathing, talking, and just being within his reach throws him off-kilter but the possibility that Renjun still wants him, still loves him, knocks his entire existence out of orbit. He feels exhilarated, scared, but above all, he feels hopeful. It’s dizzying.

With a courage—or recklessness, you decide—he didn’t know he had, he throws away his inhibitions, his fear of change, of what this could mean for him, _for them._ Throws away every single sign of apprehension and takes a leap of faith. Renjun may have broken him, yes, but he made him happy too—so, so _fucking_ happy. He was happiest with him and God forbid he loses the chance to be that happy again.

Ever so gently, he rests his hand on top of Renjun’s. He waits with bated breath as he feels Renjun stiffen at his touch. The hope that burns in him flickers. He nearly pulls away, an apology at the tip of tongue. But then— _but then,_ Renjun shifts, and holds onto his fingers lightly and, oh, _oh_ , how Jaemin’s heart soars in elation at his touch, how good it felt to have him in his hold again—it felt like coming home after being lost for so long. He twines their fingers together. It feels unreal, so unreal, that Jaemin has to squeeze his fingers just to remind himself that he’s not hallucinating. He feels the beat of his heart drown every sound.

Renjun’s other hand comes up to hold Jaemin’s. He shuffles closer and tentatively brings their clasped hands to his lips, before resting his forehead on them.

“I missed you, Nana.” Renjun sounds so small, and vulnerable. It pierces through Jaemin’s heart. “So much. I missed you so much.” He feels something wet come in contact with his skin.

“Not a day went by that I didn’t regret letting you go. I regret it so much. I couldn’t sleep at night because I’d have dreams of the day I left. I’d see you, only you; it was so vivid, Nana. _So vivid._ I could see the heartbreak on your face. Some days, it was me leaving. On other days, it was you—crazy, isn’t it? But every time, every _single_ time, I feel a part of me die.” Renjun grips Jaemin’s hand tighter. “Then it got worse, so much worse, when Mark hyung told me about you. You weren’t eating, Nana. _For weeks on end._ Why would you do that to yourself?” Renjun pleads desperately, his grip almost like a vice. “I tried calling you but you had me blocked. I called Jeno but all he did was curse me out on the phone—I deserve it, honestly. I tried reaching out, I really did, but nothing was getting to you and I was so close to getting on the earliest flight to Seoul because I just—needed to see you. I needed to know that you were going to be okay—that you _are_ okay.

“I couldn’t handle going through the days without you. Mark hyung and Donghyuck gave me updates on you but every time, they’d only bring me worse news and I just—couldn’t take it. It was unbearable. I thought I was going insane worrying about you. The guilt that came along was even worse.” He takes a breath. “I’m so sorry, Jaemin. I’m so, so sorry I made you go through that alone. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He repeats again and again.

Jaemin’s tongue rests uncomfortably heavy in his mouth. His mind flashes back to all the photos of Renjun he’s seen, of him smiling and laughing. Looking back, he should’ve known something wasn’t right when the spark in Renjun’s eyes looked dull even when he was laughing, when his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He should’ve known and the fact that he didn’t leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“And what about Yukhei?” He couldn’t help but ask. Renjun stiffens at the name but later on, he pulls himself closer to the table.

“When Mark hyung told me he was moving to Canada to continue his education and that Donghyuck was going with him, I didn’t have anyone to tell me how you were doing. I did try to contact Chenle since I remembered Donghyuck telling me you were volunteering to train their high school’s volleyball team,” He pauses to wipe the tears on his face, but Jaemin beats him to it. He leans over and gently wipes them away, his pulse quickening at the touch.

“I called him but it was Jisung who picked up and well—He wasn’t too happy to hear from me.” Renjun laughs sadly. “He told me to quit asking about you because… because…”

Jaemin gives his hand a squeeze. “Because?”

“It was my fault, and he’s right.”

“Renjun—“

“No, Jaemin. He’s right. Jisung was right but that doesn’t mean I came to terms with it. I was so lost because now I didn’t have anyone to tell me about you. I was losing you, and I know I was the one to let you go but, honestly, I didn’t. I couldn’t. How can I when you were the best thing that happened to me?

“I was sad. I barely ate, barely slept. But Yukhei, my neighbor, found me and helped me get better. For a while, I thought I was doing fine. I was happier. I thought that it was time to forgive myself for hurting you and move forward, because at that point, reconnecting with you was becoming an impossible dream.” Jaemin’s heart clenches. “I thought I could move forward with Yukhei; he was there for me as a friend, and he was there as something more. I thought ‘this was it, I’m moving forward’. But then, one day, I saw the date,” Renjun sighs. “It was the thirteenth of August.”

“It was your birthday and I was hit with memories of you—memories I thought I’ve long forgotten. All these thoughts of you and about you filled my head so suddenly, I got a little dizzy.” Renjun laughs softly, hand playing with the ring on Jaemin’s finger. “It made me realize that although, I was with Yukhei, you never really left my mind. Dormant, sure, but you were there, nonetheless. From there, it only got worse. I started missing you again—though, I don’t think I ever stopped missing you.

“When Yukhei would sling an arm around me, I’d wish that it was you. When he lent me his hoodie, I’d wish it was yours. When he did anything, really, I’d wish it was you doing it.” He confesses. “Yukhei caught on pretty fast and told me it was better that we end things when I know I can’t give my hundred percent to him.”

“Then the next few months was just a repeat of the first three but things were looking up and I clung to that hope. I finished my first year and begged my parents to let me come back. At first, it was futile but with Yukhei’s help, we got them to say yes.” Renjun lets go of Jaemin, doing jazz hands, albeit hesitant. “And, tada, here we are.”

Jaemin cracks a small smile but ultimately stares with wide calculating eyes as he takes in Renjun. Renjun who sits uncomfortably under his gaze, eyes downcast yet again and hands fiddling with each other.

It’s a lot to take in, and Jaemin doesn’t think he can digest everything in one sitting.

“I’m sure the explanation isn’t enough to compensate for everything you went through but I just want you to know, I’m so sorry. I should’ve fought for us, made long distance work, instead of letting you go just like that. I thought it was better that way because I felt we were going to weigh each other down but I realized that I was so wrong—so, so wrong. And if I could, I’d turn back time and stop myself from doing such a terrible, horrible thing,” Renjun curls into himself as Jaemin only seems to stare at him harder.

He shuffles the words in his head, turning them over and over again, but if Jaemin was being the honest, the only words ringing in his ears, loud enough to counter the erratic beat of his heart, were _He loves me. Renjun still loves me._ It makes his heart sing.

Objectively, Jaemin should definitely be more thorough in understanding the weight of Renjun’s explanation but he knows Renjun like the back of his hand and he _knows_ he wouldn’t lie to him especially when so many things were at stake; when both hearts were at stake.

Again, Jaemin is one for routine but he was never a stagnant person, and what he does next is proof.

Like the inhibitions he had, he throws all ounce of fear and doubt out the window. Did he think it through? No, of course not, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Not when Renjun’s right there. Something he’s longed for since the night the other left.

He stands, almost knocking his coffee off the table. Renjun watches with wide panicked eyes at Jaemin’s towering figure as the latter begins to move out of the booth. “Wait, no, Jaemin. Don’t go, please—“ Renjun’s breath is knocked off his chest when Jaemin grabs onto his hand and pulls him out of his seat. With one swift but gentle tug, he has Renjun encased in a hug. He knows they’re being watched by the other people in the café but Jaemin couldn’t care less. He was holding his entire world in his arms and that matters more to him than anything.

Arms snake around his waist, pulling him closer. Renjun buries his face into his neck, his warm breath tickling his skin. “I missed you, too, Injun-ah.” Jaemin whispers to the crown of the older’s head, leaving a feather-light kiss. “So much.”

Admittedly, Jaemin’s heart was unstable, fragile even, with how many cracks it has but it was the heart that loved Renjun—a whole or in pieces, it loved all the same—and it is the same heart that loves him still. Jaemin wouldn’t have it any other way.

Renjun basks in Jaemin’s warmth. “I’ll do better, I promise,” He whispers, as they sway slightly to music playing in the background.

“ _We'll_ do better, Injun-ah.”

Jaemin was always one for routine and the familiarity that came with it. It grounded him and gave him direction when his thoughts would drift too far off. Change was welcome as well for Jaemin was never known for being static, stagnant. He was known for his bright smiles, loud laughter and impulsive actions. However, as much as Jaemin was dynamic and welcomed change like an old friend, he was scared; scared of losing the familiarity, scared of floating off, scared of getting lost.

But now, Jaemin thinks, with Renjun back in his arms, change doesn’t seem so scary.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! if you made it this far, good on you :D thank you for reading! 
> 
> find me on twitter: @813nnjm


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